“It will be a great day for me when I take his place.”

“Exactly.  Be patient, and it will come about.  Meanwhile I want you to treat him as a friend.”

“Why?”

“So that he won’t suspect that there is any conspiracy against him.”

“I see.  You are a smart one, Uncle Simon.”

“I flatter myself that I know what I am about,” returned Rich, complacently.

Andy was considerably surprised at the kindness with which he was treated, during the next few days, by the head salesman.  He had expected something very different.  He began to think he had misjudged Mr. Rich.

He was still more surprised when the next day at his lunch hour he was invited to the Dairy Kitchen by John Crandall.  He did not care to accept, but John insisted upon it, and he thought it would be rude to refuse.

John chatted very pleasantly during the meal, and Andy was both surprised and pleased.

“Have you got a new place?” he asked.

“No, but uncle thinks he can get me one before long.”

“I hope it will be a good one.”

“Oh, I think it will,” said John, showing his teeth and smiling significantly.

So passed several days, and Andy began to think that Mr. Rich had become his friend.  But at length the storm broke.

One day, as he entered the store, he noticed that Simon Rich was looking grave and stern.

“Andrew,” he said, without preface, “something very disagreeable has happened.”

“What is it, Mr. Rich?”

“A gold watch has disappeared from this case.”

“A valuable one?” asked Andy, innocently.

“It is one that retails at fifty dollars.  I would not have had this occur during Mr. Flint’s absence for twice that sum.”

“Have you any idea of what has become of it?”

“Not at present, but as you and my nephew are in the store so much, of course you would have opportunities of taking it.”

“Uncle Simon,” said John, who was present, “I insist on your searching me.”

“I will do so, though I am sure neither you nor Andrew is at fault.”

“Search me, too, Mr. Rich,” said Andy, fearlessly.

Nothing was found on John, but thrusting his hand into the upper pocket of Andy’s vest, Simon Rich drew out a folded paper.

“What is this?” he cried.  “A pawn ticket for a gold watch?  What does this mean?”

“Let me see it,” said Andy, dumfounded.

It was a ticket issued by a Third Avenue pawnbroker for a gold watch, on which ten dollars appeared to have been loaned.  The name of the borrower appeared as A. Grant.

“Miserable boy!” said the salesman, severely; “so you have turned thief.  What a hypocrite you must be!”

“I don’t know what it means,” faltered Andy, quite overwhelmed.

CHAPTER XIX.

ANDY IS DISCHARGED.